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Talking Out-louds
by
Page France
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You left a bad, bad sound in my mouth From all the talk-a, talk-a, talking out-louds When momma warned me not to peep out of sound You made a bad, bad sound in her mouth They left a big, big hole in our wall And always swinging like a wrecking ball Oh, how the world looks from ten feet tall Oh, how I never meant to feel so small There was green on the grass There was blue in the sky, so high And I was sliding around They were calling me down the way We left a trail, a trail of feet on the ground From all the stomp, stomp, stomping around We got and would've never been found We left a trail, a trail of feet on the ground We took a little bit of hell from the fire It burned us all for being gluttoning liars While all the squeaky cleaners went somewhere higher All of us dirty birdies flew in the fire There was green on the grass There was blue in the sky, so high And I was sliding around They were calling me down the way There was green on the grass There was blue in the sky, so high And I was sliding around They were calling me down the way They were calling me down the way
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